One Man Drinking Games
by WalleyKins66
Summary: It was an ordinary day. At least, Arthur Kirkland believed so, until that damned phone call turned his world upside down. Major USUK, slight FrUK. Warning: Iggy's POV, strong language, etc.
1. Ordinary Day

The day started out just as any other. After spending the night on the phone with that moronic git, Alfred, I managed to fall into a deep slumber which lasted through the afternoon. The gentle buzzing of my phone brought me into consciousness (which I was not too pleased about, mind you). I reached my right hand over to the night stand, groggily parting my lips to begin this very unwanted conversation. It possibly could not be anything quite important. It was, just in fact, a day as any other.

"Good morrow, Arthur" the voice called from the other end.

"Good morning to you as well, Mr. Cameron." David was a man whom I was quite fond of. He had never done me any wrong, at least not at the time. He remained quiet for some time before I spoke once more, carefully clearing my throat.

"Is there anything you need?" I asked, propping myself up on my left elbow. He let out a small, almost inaudible sigh before answering my question. The silence between us felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. It had never been this way with us before. After I had saved his bloody arse from staying with that blasted wench, Ashley, his respect was the least I deserved. At least some God damned manners, for Christ's sake!

"Before I say anything, please be aware that I have already discussed this with Parliament, and they all agree with the decision I am about to expose to you." My heart suddenly stopped. The last time Parliament had consulted without my authority was the Glorious Revolution. Of course, things had turned for the better, but during the boiling point, life was close to horrible as it could be. I held my breath and awaited for the upcoming news.

"Will I have to do something against my will?" I muttered. David slightly chuckled, clicking his tongue.

"Most likely, yes. When was the last time you had to do completely against your will, Arthur?" he asked nonchalantly. My eyes widened, and I sat straight up, pulling the blanket closer to myself. Why the bloody Hell was he asking me such atrocious questions? I lowered my lids, and secured my grip of the phone. He knew what my answer was. Anyone who has worked up close personally with me knows the fucking answer.

"Leaving Alfred in 1812." The ruler at that point believed that I was doing more harm to myself trying to keep my former colony instead of letting it go. He somehow managed to convince me to give up. I had not spoken to Alfred on a friendly basis since that point until it was necessary for me to swallow my pride and ask for his help during World War I. Looking down, I shook my head. "Why do you need to know?" I asked.

"It appears that you may need to perform those actions once more. You need to cut any and every relationship," he began. I laughed. This was all purely for economical purposes, of course. Alfred was a mooch, he would most likely try to steal my funds. I was already aware he would pull off some cheap trick such as that. Giving away some pounds from the treasury should not do such a great harm.

"Listen, Mr. Cameron, I think you have this wrong. I know that out of everyone, America is most certainly the most selfish and moronic of the nations. He's too much of an imbecile to ask for m-"

"It's not for the economic side, Arthur. Parliament has ruled that this relationship is not making you focus on the needs of this nation. Mr. Jones takes far too much time from your schedule and is making you seem like your mind is in Disney World, while your body remains in London.." he spoke. I remained frozen. Well, fuck the special relationship. It was getting quite old, anyways. I was most certainly not upset. Ending it would not do me any harm.

"Hm. That's perfectly fine, my dear comrade. I'll simply call America tonight and-"

"That's... actually one more thing I may have not exactly emphasized.."

"What in the devil's name are you speaking about?"

"You're no longer permitted to speak to America either." I froze once again. A chill went up the back of my spine, as I was clenching my teeth, and flaring my nostrils. Who were THEY to tell ME what I could and could not do! I am the United Bloody Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland! I could easily govern myself if I so desired. I narrowed my eyes, and stared into space.

"Who the fuck are you to tell me who I can and cannot speak to?" I whispered. Mr. Cameron sighed, the noise from various papers being rustled and looked through in order to continue the conversation made their way to my end of the phone.

"Who am I? Your prime minister, that is who. And Parliament chose me to inform you of their choice. With this split with your relationship, you'll be able to focus more on your own items as well as Britain as a whole. This is for the best of you and us. I apologise, Arthur. Good day."

"Good day..." I hissed. I waited until I heard the standard phone tone to ensure, in fact, that Mr. Cameron had ended the call. I pressed the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger, taking a deep breath. It was far too early in the morning to be thinking. I checked my wall clock. Morning my arse, it was nearly two in the afternoon.

"Fuck.." I muttered, kicking the sheets off. I stared at my bedroom's pale blue walls, thinking on how to break the news to Alfred. He was most likely already informed. If not, the odds that he would find out through some third party were quite high. I stepped steadily on the wooden floor. I bit my tongue, taking each step slower and lighter than the one before. None of their reasons made sense. It was such a sudden choice. Quite bloody fucking random as well.

Walking down the stairs, I continued to feed theories into my brain to come to a final conclusion. Did Alfred cut the friendship on his own and is Parliament simply sparing my feelings? Of course not, they know I wouldn't give two damns. Perhaps President Obama and Camille got into some sort of disagreement. A probable circumstance, but unlikely to cause an effect on me. The blue bloods have no say in government, they are simply a figure for the media to play with. I strained my mind to find more probabilities.

Making my way into the kitchen, I began to pour water into my black kettle which Alfred had gotten me for Christmas in 1982. It had seen better days, but my black kettle was certainly reliable. I would not trade it for any other. I awaited for the water to come to a boil as I flipped on the television to BBC. I took much pride in my entertainment and media. The kettle began to whistle just as the special feature cut to the breaking news.

"What the hell..." No one ever interrupted a marathon of Doctor Who, not so long as my hair was blonde and my eyes green, and I living. I reached for the remote to turn up the volume, making my way over to pour the water into the cup with a peppermint tea bag waiting to be used. I raised the volume in a swift movement, setting the controller down once the level was that to my satisfaction.

"Good afternoon, London. This is Elizabeth Mayes coming to you live from Washington D.C in the United States of America." Oh God damn it all. I grabbed my mug and seated myself on the couch, leaning in to see the upcoming news. I scanned the screen for any sign of a political figure which might hint me as to what was happening. Nothing whatsoever.

"It seems that as of today, America has officially been declared bankrupt. The government is slowly trying to keep its people calm during this new financial crisis. According to researchers, this depression has hit rock bottom, throwing the States into a complete national deficit. No longer able to repay any loans, leaders of other nations are n-" I shut the set off. Things were slightly more clear to me. Not crystal clear as I would hope, but I was not swimming in the murky waters of complete ignorance any longer.

Parliament's actions had their purpose. They know I would be the first to offer a lending hand to Alfred. It's the least I owe him, I don't do it because I care about that damned bastard. I chuckled, taking one more sip of the peppermint tea. David had no say in who I could help and who I could not. I laughed some more as I walked towards my office. I reached for the phone, and dialed Alfred's number. This was some ridiculous mess that arse had gotten himself into. And I, being a proper English gentleman, would most certainly help him out.

"Good Afternoon, or shall I say morning. This is Arthur Kirkland. Would Alfred Jones be available?" I asked, taking one more sip of my tea. The call suddenly dropped. The standard beeping noise began to play from the other end, never stopping. I felt my arms and legs go weak. The weight from the tea mug was too much for me to bear at the moment. It slipped through my fingertips, shattering as soon as it made contact with the floor. Glass shards danced around my exposed feet, edges kissing and cutting the skin which soon began to bleed.

I remained frozen in place. I attempted to dial once more, only to be rejected again. I looked around the room in a faze. What the hell was going on? The office phone rang. I reached for it in a light second, holding my breath.

"Alfred?" I called out, hoping that his cheery voice would return some snarky remark which would aggravate me. I needed to hear his voice.

"I tried to be as diplomatic as possible, Arthur.." Cameron began. Oh bloody fuck. "We gave you guidelines. Parliament is not afraid to take serious action. Stop contact with America, or things will turn for the worst. This is the last simple warning."

The phone clicked. I looked down at the mess I had made. Hot tea mixed with blood and glass all painted quite a delightful picture for me on the floor. I had to clean this up. I had to clear my mind. I breathed in. I would need to list everything I was aware of, and the things I was not. I made my way towards the laundry room, looking for any sort of towel. Number one, Alfred was in a fucking recession that God knows how he got so screwed over.

I turned the handle on the sink, testing the water to ensure that it was warm enough. Number two, I had no idea what was going on with America's situation. Perhaps he was undergoing a revolution. If so, it would not be too shocking. Every nation goes through various domestic conflicts. At the same time, he was utterly destroyed during his Civil War. I shook my head.I did not want to think about his misery. I looked at the wall clock. There was nothing to keep my thoughts occupied.

Number three, I was no longer permitted to continue any political or emotional relationship with America. I mean, not emotional. Our lack of friendship would surely do us both harm, economically. Of course, this was truly the only reason as to why I'm in denial. It's not as if I have any feelings for that moronic git. No feelings whatsoever. I placed the towel under the running water, wringing it free from any excess liquid before I made my way to the office once more, squatting to pick up the glass pieces with the moistened towel. I looked down, wiping away the small blood smears left.

Despite the bleeding, I felt no pain. I checked my feet, the bleeding practically stopped. I shrugged, and continued wiping down the wooden floor. America was no longer with me. My own government had turned against me due to their fear of me dedicating all of my time and energy on that bloody wanker. I huffed, biting the inside of my cheek.

I knew not why I felt so heartbroken over Parliament's decision. It's not as if Alfred would give a damn over our relationship suddenly being taboo. I always cared more for him, anyways. This could be a relieve for me. I would no longer need to go out of my way for him. Fucking Hell, that tosser. I stood up, leaving the remainder of the mess to stay in its place. No "boss" of mine had any bloody fucking right over telling me to whom I can and cannot speak to.

My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I am not about to let some pricks tell me how to run my matters when I have obviously been around far longer than they have. I would speak to Alfred again. I would help him out of his dilemma, and we would be together once again. I would make sure that it would happen. This day did not begin like any other, but I would sure as hell make sure that it would end like one.

* * *

><p><strong>...<strong>

**Na na na na! 'Ello, lovelies!**

**Wow, that was fun to write. Poor Iggy. He and his confused inner thoughts.**

**JUST ADMIT IT, YOU LOVE HIM.**

**E: I MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT!**

**Yay. Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Breaking the Habit

**Hello lovelies! Thank you for all your interest in this story! It brings cheer to my heart. So without further ado, enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

><p>I rapidly dressed myself in the most casual outfit I could find. Today, I would not dress like a gentleman. I had a plan, and fucking Hell, that plan ought to work. Some brown trousers and a maroon sweater would suffice. I was merely going to make a simple trip to the local park. The government would have no way to track my phone calls from a public place, it was genius. I smirked at my own success in being able to fool those wankers. There was no way in Hell that I would ever stop talking to Alfred.<p>

I stepped outside, locking my home's door and began to make my way to the street. I played with excess change in my pocket, checking my surroundings to be sure I was not followed by my own servicemen. The area seemed empty with the exception of a mother holding the hand of her toddler. _No threat to me,_ I thought, keeping up with my pace.

The silence was my only companion as I stepped towards one of the many red telephone booths. I quietly praised myself for keeping such a lovely tradition intact for moments such as these. I cautiously opened the door, and stepped inside. I inserted the necessary amount of pounds in order for my call to be put through. I held by breath, waiting for the signal.

The beeping began.

I let out all of my fears on that sigh, and began to mark Alfred's number. I figured his official number would be easily traced back by my government. No harm in dialing his cellular device. This was to be a more personal call, anyways. I shut my eyes, trying to think back on those bloody damned numbers and their order. Taking my time, I carefully dialed each digit, hoping and praying to the Queen that my plan would hold success for me. I finally finished marking every individual number, simply waiting for the blasted ringing noise. It shouldn't take so God-damned long to begin to ring! I tapped my foot in anxiety. Then I heard it.

_Ring._

My heart skipped a beat. I held my breath once more, certain that I would pass out from lack of oxygen. The phone continued to ring for what seemed to be an eternity. What if they had blocked all English numbers from reaching America? No, the call would not have gone through. I bit my tongue, slightly aggravated as to how I managed to slip into this situation. No one was picking up on the other end. My curiosity over America's well-being began to drive me insane. Was his situation dead honestly so tragic? I shook my head, and continued to wait. With every passing second, my thoughts began to turn darker and more grim.

The rings were endless. Nothing or no one on the other end. I sighed, slumping my shoulders in disappointment. I did not understand this feeling of disappointment. I had always had Alfred at my disposal, he was nothing that would occupy my mind for more than 10 minutes a day. Why did it suddenly seem like he was the only thing I could think about now? The phone continued to ring. Ringing endlessly. Simply ringing, as if it were mocking me.

"Hello?"

I shot up straight, eyes widened. I looked around to be sure the voice was truly coming from the phone I was holding up to my ear.

"America?"

"Yo! You have reached Alfred's phone number. Sorry I can't talk right now. But if you leave me a message, I'll totally get back to you. Hahaha! Later, dude."

I slammed the phone. That fucking bastard! I hit my head against the side of the booth numerous times in order to get the frustration out of my system. That bloody damned insolent git. I should just leave him be. I had absolutely no reason to continue looking for him. If he wanted to get into contact with me, he would have done so himself, that prick. I refused to ever call that damn tosser, even if it were to save my life.

I turned around to exit the booth, then I was stopped by an unknown force. Perhaps it was anxiety, or curiosity truly taking over me, but I could no longer help it. I reached into my pocket once more and took out more coins to insert into the slot. I had enough for 2 more attempts at reaching Alfred. I silently hoped that he had just been in the bathroom, or knowing him, eating some greasy, cholesterol-ridden food that will eventually clog up his arteries. I took a deep breath once more, and attempted to dial.

My fingers felt incredibly heavy as I pressed on the buttons, analyzing every move I made to ensure I was typing in the proper combination once more. My foot began to tap nervously as I waited for the ringing to being once more. It remained silent for what seemed to be five seconds, only to have been given the standard rejection beep. My mouth felt dry as I looked down, examining the remainder of my money.

It was unusual for that damn git to not pick up after a second attempt. Perhaps something was seriously wrong. America was always on his bloody iPhone, addicted to that damn device. He could be simply ignoring my calls. I sighed, wondering who he could be with. Perhaps he was dealing with personal issues alongside China. I shook my head at the thought. The two had gotten awfully close over the past decade, but I was most certainly NOT jealous. Not jealous at all, thank you very much. I bit the inside of my cheek, convinced that the inside of my mouth was probably completely destroyed as of now.

I checked my watch to ensure that time was not slipping through my fingers. Six in the afternoon. Not too horrid, for the afternoon I've had. Swallowing the excess saliva that had made its way to my mouth, I reached into my pocket. I made a small deal with myself. If Alfred did not pick up after this call, I would happily accept Parliament's decision and no longer speak to America ever. Nevertheless, if that bloody wanker just so happened to pick up his phone on my last attempt, I would fight to the very ends of the earth to remain with him. I knew which of the two I wanted to occur, but my pride was far too large to admit it.

Taking one small step closer to the telephone, it began to rang. I stared at it, my eyes bewildered. Could he be calling back? If so, he was a complete and utter moron, calling a public number back. Still, the ringing teased my senses, as if it were asking for me to pick up. It was a peculiar thing, but I was sure it could certainly do no harm. I picked up the telephone, raising an eyebrow.

"Good afternoon?"

"We are serious, Mr. Kirkland. St-"

I hung up immediately. My heart rate began to accelerate once more, my eyes darting from every direction in order to perceive where the call was coming from. Was I being watched without my knowledge? I was positive to be extremely careful with my actions, it was impossible for the government to have been able to trace me back. I opened the door of the booth, stepped outside and casually stretched my arms, looking around the perimeter. No one was in sight. This was my opportunity.

I ran. I ran faster than I have ever gone on any battlefield during my 1300 years of existence. I had no conscious idea as to where my legs were carrying me, but I knew one thing for certain: to get the fuck away from that bloody telephone booth as fast as possible. The voice at the other end of the phone was one thing that simply sent chills up my spine. That was not the friendly and familiar voice of David Cameron that I was accustomed to. No, this was a voice with much more authority and a harsh edge to his commitment. I knew it belonged to only one person: The Speaker of the House.

My legs kept their pace up, despite the air turning cold and stabbing at my lungs. It was impossible that I was being traced back by my own government. Quite preposterous, in my humble opinion. I had two choices at hand, and my brain began to deteriorate as I thought of my options. I could easily go home, and forget everything, just like I had promised myself by the telephone booth. On the other hand, I would never know if Alfred was aware of what _my_ government had to say over his situation.

Parliament could not harm me. I was the reason for their existence, and bloody Hell, I deserved respect from them. I did not fear them. I did not fear those tossers whatsoever. I had ran for what seemed like a century (which in reality, should only have been fifteen to twenty minutes), until I reached a deserted street which began to darken as the sun went down. I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was nearly seven thirty in the evening. My day was slowly fading, and no contact with America. I did a rapid scan of the setting in order to decide my next move. I would definitely need a phone.

No phone booths were at my disposal. Sighing, I took a step towards the entrance stairs of an old Victorian-style home. The lights were weakly shining from the inside, surely someone ought to be in that residence. My steps were quick and light as I approached the door. Knocking on the old wood, I awaited for someone to answer my calling.

"Who is it?" called a screeching voice. I felt shivers go up my spine, the voice stimulating an image in my mind of a wicked witch of the 1600s. I gulped, and attempted to raise my voice.

"Good evening, ma'am. My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I am in need of your assistance."

"What the hell do you want?" the voice asked in one of the thickest Cockney accents I have ever heard in my life, as the door slowly creaked open. Once again, I mustered up all of my damn courage to speak again.

"I need to use your phone, if it would not be an issue."

"Go take your cons to some other damn place," she hissed, closing the door. No. No, my opportunity would not end.

"I have money!" I said, stopping my chances from leaving me, placing my hand between the door and the frame. The mysterious woman lingered in the shadows, holding a hand out.

"Up front, tosser. You have fifteen minutes, you hear?" she sang in the most melancholic manner as I placed the remainder of my change into her palm. She widened the door, and allowed me to step inside. I turned to thank her, but she had vanished into the darkness. I looked for her figure in the shadows, only to be disappointed.

"DON'T BLOODY TOUCH A THING!" she screamed from the upstairs. I shuddered at her quick movements, however, not hesitating to make my way towards the phone. I reached for the device, and dialed the number that was necessary. This was my last attempt to speak to Alfred. I just hoped it would turn in my favor. Looking around, I held the phone close to my ear, holding my breath for any signs of intruders or spies.

I merely laughed at myself. Look at me, being paranoid while I attempt to dial a forbidden love in a strangers home. Oh, Arthur, you sure have gotten yourself into one bloody fucking mess. Awaiting for the standard ring to play, I checked my surroundings in case I had to flee. The window seemed like a decent place to jump out of. Oh, it appears there is a door near the back, by the kitchen. Nothing would stop me. The phone began to ring.

_Ring._

_ Ring._

_ Ring._

It was a never ending cycle. _Please pick up, please.._ I thought loudly, although no one would ever know. The ringing came to an end. My heart quickly stopped.

"Hello?"

"America?"

"Hey Iggy! What's up, dude?"

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, I totally did/ just end it there.**

**I can't wait to add more America in here, he brings happiness to my face.**

**England sure knows what he wants, despite the consequences. **

**Oh my, Iggy. You're going to get yourself in a lot of trouble.**

**Thank you! **


	3. Between You and I

**HELLOO SAN FRANCISCO! **

**Thank you so much for your feedback, it makes me smile. This chapter was rather quick, so far my favorite to have written.**

**I hope you guys like it!**

* * *

><p>What's up dude? WHAT'S UP DUDE? After all of my troubles, that is the damn greeting I get? I flared my nostrils in anger, wishing to slap the imbecile for being so damn oblivious. I huffed, shaking my head. Perhaps America was truly not aware of the things going on around him. If that were the case, it would not shock me, the git was completely dense.<p>

"Are you alright?" I asked, looking around. This was an inadequate time to be upset at Alfred for his moronic tactics. I wondered where he was, who he was with, what he was doing. It had only been one simple day since we last spoke, surely not too much must have happened.

"Of course I am, dude! I'm the hero. Heroes are always alright!" he sang. I slightly frowned. He sounded too cheery for his situation. His dialect sounded forced. I felt like he didn't want me to worry, so I played along. I am a proper gentleman, and proper gentlemen do not make others uncomfortable (without reason).

"Ah, exquisite. Senate not being too harsh on you, now are they?" I teased, trying to liven up the situation. I heard him laugh from the other end, the sound filling my heart with relief. I loved that arse's laugh. He would never find out of this, however. Not in a million fucking years.

"Nope."

Our conversation grew silent. I looked down at the floor, not knowing what else to say. The grey colours in the living room which I was standing in seemed to tint my mood with their shades. I held the phone closer to my ear, wondering how many of my fifteen minutes I had already used up.

"Hey, Iggy?" Alfred began. I brought my lips up to a half-smile, chuckling slightly.

"Yes?" I replied, shaking my head at the blasted nickname. However, this was not the time to scold at America. His change of tone made me realize something, nonetheless. Alfred knew exactly what was going on. There was no need for him to come out and say it, nor could I read it from his expression, but the way his breathing pattern decelerated and his pitch lowered, I knew he was aware. Turns out he was not as oblivious as I originally believed.

"Would you believe me if I said I was sorry?" he asked. My heart dropped into my stomach, and I felt a pressure at my chest. Was that git apologizing? I lowered my lids.

"Hm. Was that question meant to hurt?" I muttered, rolling my eyes. Of course I would believe that tosser, he was one of the few morons to whom I would hand my life to blindly. I trusted him, despite his childish ways. I heard America performing his famous nervous habit, nail biting. Quite a horrid habit, which would be incredibly difficult to put a halt to. I awaited his reply.

"No. Just my fear of losing you, I guess.." he sighed. I held my breath. Oh yes, Alfred definitely knew what my government had to say over his situation. I felt cold all of a sudden. Were we giving up? Was this phone call one to say goodbye? I closed my eyes, remembering the past when we would watch his horrific Hollywood terror films on his couch, or simply stroll down any street, chuckling at some political figure's appearance. I felt as if those days were gone. After being together for so long, I had never told Alfred exactly everything I felt towards him.

We had always understood each other's feelings without any need to say them out loud. There was no need to say it, but the doubt would always remain there, unfortunately. I felt the salty sting of tears beginning to form in my eyes, making their journey down my cheeks. Everything outside suddenly became quiet. Far too quiet. Something was definitely occurring.

I heard sirens from outside of the house, the red and blue lights flashing through the curtains. I felt no fear at the moment. I wanted to be with Alfred for as long as possible, even if it was just his voice I had access to.

"Arthur? What's going on?" America asked in an alarmed tone. I ignored his question, becoming clear with my sentiments. I did care about Alfred. I did not wish to smile in a world without him. I held my ground, not planning to move one muscle.

"MR. KIRKLAND. WE'VE GOT YOU SURROUNDED. GIVE YOURSELF UP NOW, OR FACE THE CHARGES OF FELONY TOWARDS YOUR NATION." a voice called out.

"England? What's happening?"

I stared at the back door. Felony was an intense term to use for simply speaking to the one you lo- truly care about. For the one you truly care about. I had been given my warnings, however. I knew what might occur. I knew Parliament would not be pleased with my actions. Did I regret picking up the phone to call Alfred? Did I regret all the time we spent together, only to be brought down to this horrendous ending? I closed my eyes, letting more tears run down my face. I was a gentleman. Gentlemen only cried in privacy.

"YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS, KIRKLAND."

"Iggy!"

I opened my eyes, and held my position. I stood straight, dusted my maroon sweater and kept my stance. If they wanted me, they could come in now. They could take me for all I gave a damn. I knew of one thing, however. Alfred picked up the phone. He picked up, which meant I would do everything in my will power to return to his side while we sorted our troubles separately.

The front door slammed open. I heard the elderly woman scream curses from the edge of the staircase, shaking her fragile fists. Servicemen and police from all different branches ran towards me, pointing their guns in my direction. Let them shoot. It would simply kill their nation. I looked at each one of them in the eye. I felt no hatred nor scorn for these men. They were simply doing their job for me, despite the irony.

This entire gimmick was definitely an over reaction in my opinion, but they were my people. I believed I had to do as they said. The dried tears stiffened my face slightly, and I continued an expressionless facade in order to avoid more conflict.

"Don't move or we'll shoot!"

I chuckled, continuing to keep my vision straight ahead, focusing on nothing nor anyone. If my approximations were correct, I had seven seconds before I was taken under arrest. Perhaps with proper persuasion I could return home in time to finish my beloved "Dr. Who" marathon. Oh, how I adored Matt Smith as the Doctor. I realized Alfred was still on the line.

"Shoot? Iggy? Are you okay? Dude, what's going on?" he continued to ask. I kept a straight face, bringing my hands up to cup my mouth in order to whisper. No one would hear nor decipher what I was to say. Not the blasted old wench, nor the police.

"PUT THE PHONE DOWN, KIRKLAND!" they screamed. My people were so damn impatient and grumpy. I wonder where they got that from. I lowered my lids, choosing my last words that Alfred would hear for what would most likely be quite a long time.

"Alfred.."

"Arthur? Are you okay?"

"I love you."

"Wha-"

I hung up the phone. Smirking, I looked every man once again in the eye. I would allow them to take me, but only by turning myself in. I would not go down to my own government without pride. I lifted my arms up in the air, preparing for the next upcoming scenario.

"Well done, gents. I applaud you," I began, sarcastically. I never dropped my smile. The most buff out of the men surrounding me approached my area slowly, scared that I might pull a trick on his ignorant arse. He rapidly grabbed my arms and placed them behind my back, cuffing them as tight as they would go. The cold metal was slightly shocking to my skin, but I grew accustomed to their feeling.

They took me out of the elderly woman's home, her shrieks and curses not a stranger to anyone's ears any longer. As the men took me under their control, my mind remained blank. I felt nothing. This feeling of emptiness was one similar to 1776. I shuddered at my realization, there would be no way in Hell that I would go all "Bella Swan" on myself. That would be simply preposterous. My mind remained a blank canvas afterwords, however. The servicemen shoved me into the back seat of a car, and started up the engine. I hoped their batteries went flat, those tossers.

I pressed my cheek against the window, not sure exactly what to think. Alfred was no longer mine. He knew of this. We both knew. I wondered what he would do during my absence. I thought more about our past conversation. I had told the git how I felt. I suppose know I would never truly know if he stayed by my side purely for convenience of if my feelings were returned. I shrugged. It was far too late now. I had ended the call abruptly. If I were to receive any punishment, I am pleased that those were my last words to America.

Maybe this was all for the best. I tried my best to remain positive. I shook my head once more, I saw no good in this. Perhaps he would find someone better. I hoped he wouldn't. Perhaps it was wrong of me to think I could keep him. The auto made its course during the night, my thoughts always returning to America. Surely, he was safe. He had to be. If not, I know not what I might do. Shoot a couple of tossers, that's what. Blast all.

The car ride seemed to be endless. I attempted to count the stars, tell myself stories of previous prime ministers, my lovely Queen Elizabeth. The air appeared to be getting cooler, fogging up the side windows on my side. I kicked the driver's seat.

"Oi, tosser. When the bloody hell will we be arriving, eh?" I hissed, no longer giving a damn over being proper.

"Shut him up, will you?" the driver asked one of his comrades. The lankier man gave me a sympathetic look, as if I were some beggar from the streets. I scorned at his gentle face, wishing to get away from this damned place and out of this fucking car. I kicked the seat once more, as if I were a young child.

"LET ME OUT, YOU GITS. I DEMAND TO BE RELEASED!" I screamed, slowly losing my composure. The car came to a halt, and the door on the opposite end of me opened widely. It was about damn time. I had no idea where I was being taken, but anything was better than that cramped car.

"We're here, Kirkland. Hurry up." the driver hissed. I tried to move to the best of my abilities, walking in whichever direction I was pointed to. I felt like a prisoner of war. In a way, I was a prisoner. A prisoner to myself, my nation, my people. With every step, I began to lose my sanity. We had yet to reach any buildings before I halted, the men behind me bumping into my backside.

"What the fu-" the lankier officer began, shoving me forward. His sympathy was short-living, as far as I could tell. My thoughts traced back to America. His blue eyes, his blonde hair, the way his glasses would tilt to the left side whenever he laughed a bit too harshly. Would I never witness those things again? I looked at the ground, feeling an emptiness inside of me. I not only loved America, I was in love with that damn prick. God damn it.

This situation would be far too difficult to handle now that I've become honest with myself. After moments of zoning out, I felt something hard against my back. I turned around to a gun pointed at me once more. These men meant business. Part of me wished to kick their moronic and ignorant faces into oblivion.

"You ready to go inside, Kirkland?" the driver asked, nodding towards the large, metal door which stood in front of us. I blinked rapidly, surprised. I could not believe I had not noticed that monstrous thing. I closed my eyes, and straightened my thoughts out. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am a proper gentleman. I keep all of my promises. I would fight to the end to be reunited with Alfred. I opened my eyes, tears absent from my cheeks. I looked back at the two officers who awaited my answer. Smirking, I opened my mouth.

"Ready as I'll ever be. Lead the way, wankers."

* * *

><p><strong>DUN DUN DUN<strong>

**I'm so happy to have been able to include some America in here. **

**Well, I hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter, it was updated rather quickly. OTL**

**Thank you for reading, don't forget to review, loves! 3 **


	4. World So Cold

**Hello lovelies. Sorry for the wait. I kind of keep losing and regaining inspiration for this. Hopefully you all like this chapter. **

* * *

><p>The men quickly pushed me towards the narrow passage which consisted of pure iron, or so it seemed. Did I ever give the okay to establish something like this jail? I pondered over the thought for a minute, considering if I was even in a jail, or simply military headquarters. I shook my head, it made no difference. I was the prey, the law my predator. The steps seemed endless as my escorts and I made our way down. What punishment would await for me? Hopefully nothing too horrid.<p>

We continued walking in pure silence and darkness. I held my breath as the air became less pure. There seemed to be so much industrialization occurring so low in the earth. The temperature seemed to increase rapidly, for I was sweating profusely by the time we had reached our destination. The smaller man leaned in to open the large wooden door. I chuckled to myself. What a bunch of moronic imbeciles. Why the fuck would they build an entire labyrinth of iron and make the central door out of wood? Fucking gits, that's what they were.

"Inside, Kirkland."

I stepped in the proper military fashion into the room. Glancing, I saw David Cameron, sporting a somber look on his face, seated next to two members of the House, as well as Prince Charles. I raised an eyebrow, questioning why that disgrace to English blood was sitting in this room, about to determine my fate. I looked at my beloved friend.

"Good evening, David."

"Arthur..." he began, looking down. I shrugged, and took my seat (or the empty chair at the base of the room, which I assumed to be my seat). I looked up at the faces of the respected above me, clenching and unclenching my fists in no particular fashion.

"Mr. Kirkland, today we will be discussing your.. payment for your actions," spoke an elderly man from the House of Commons. I nodded in respect, awaiting to hear more. My heart rate accelerated for what seemed to be a simple minute, then returned to it's normal pace. David changed his position in his chair, perhaps he felt uncomfortable.

"To begin, you will be sentenced to pure isolation. Any international matters will be Mr. Cameron's responsibility for the time being."

What? It took a couple of seconds for the thought to completely process through. No, no this was impossible! This had got to be a bloody fucking joke!

"This is blasphemy!" I shouted, standing up from my chair. I was restrained by the two men who escorted me. When the bloody fuck did they get there? They rapidly shoved me back to my chair, pressing at my shoulders to keep me from moving. I could easily punch them both out cold, I simply chose not to. It would not be proper of me, of course.

I tried to think back of the last time one of the fellow nations had to recede from their natural obligations to represent their people and themselves. How shameful would it be for Cameron to take over my role! I bit the inside of my cheek, and began cursing at myself. Fucking idiot! I should not have said anything nor done anything with Alfred earlier. Was this even worth it? David was a wise man, but he did not know how to execute proper diplomatic matters. I opened my mouth to protest.

"It's not proper for me to be in complete isolation, my dear sir. W-what about-"

"You will not speak unless spoken to. You were warned, Kirkland."

"But sir-"

"Would you like to be sentenced to house arrest as well? We are being generous."

"Yes, bu-"

"Silence!"

I sat in shock, letting my gaze drop. I suppose this... this wasn't as horrible as it could have been. I'm still breathing. A young man dressed in navy blue walked up to me, and lifted my sleeve. My sweater was stuck to my skin with the sweat from the descend. The lad lifted his right hand to reveal a small needle which appeared to be for me. Those tossers were going to knock me out and return me home. Hah. Fucking cowards. I furrowed my eyebrows in disgust. Let them bring me to a lasting slumber. Anything was better than this hell hole.

Day 1

I awoke after my first day in seclusion. I was caught up with all of my shows. My phones and internet had all been cut off from me. No letters were to arrive at my home. Nothing but pure seclusion. I suppose I could leave my home to get fresh air, all under the supervision of my people. How the bloody hell did this situation turn out like this? I sat at my large arm chair, staring at a pile of letters America had sent to me from previous years.

This was pure torture. I opened each letter, the nostalgia drowning my thoughts with pure anguish. Scribbles from Alfred's earlier days.

_"Dear Iggy, today I decided I'm going to write you letters while I learn to play the flute! It's a pretty nice instrument! I miss you. You never visit me anymore! Please write back! Love, America"_

_ "Dear Iggy, it's been a while since you've visited! I've grown up quite a bit! I can't wait to see you again! I have a bunch of stuff we can do! I learned how to hunt. Are you proud of me? I miss you. Love, Alfred."_

I shook my head, laughing at his childish ways. Alfred always enjoyed playing the flute. He was talented in the musical aspect, I'll give him that much. Closing my eyes, I remember him playing the guitar while he thought I would be asleep, or him sitting by the piano. He did not seem like the musical type, but he was.

I continued looking through some of the latter letters Alfred had sent me. His handwriting was sometimes illegible, but his words brought comfort to me. The pains in my chest were almost unbearable. It had only been one day. I stood, making my way towards the kitchen, reaching to open the medicine cabinet. I grabbed my bottle of sleeping pills, and popped out the sufficient amount I would need to be knocked out.

These would keep me sane for the living Hell I was about to endure.

Day 5

I cannot feel my chest any longer. I have refused to lift myself from the couch. The government caught me trying to contact Alfred. I am not sure if they wish to torture me, or if they simply are just cruel. The pill bottle was close to being empty. The dried tears on my cheek began to crack, the dried salt leaving trails.

I rolled on my side, reaching for more sleeping pills. Those tossers... it seemed as if they were mocking me, throwing each letter into the fire pit, while I screamed in disapproval. I stared at the pile of ashes towards my fireplace. I shook my head, reaching for more sleeping pills. After a while, this would be over. This would soon be over. I just needed sleep. I would wake up from this nightmare.

Day 14

My sleeping pills were long gone. It has been two weeks since I've made contact with anyone. My mind was boggling. Insanity. I was going insane. What was Francis doing now? It had been such a long time since I've spoken to him. Fucking tosser. I hope he rots in Hell. What about Canada? Oh, sweet Canada. A good boy, he was.

I stroked my arm, the same maroon sweater covering my skin. I would do anything to hear a voice, any voice. Had I truly been alone for so long? It appears that my pact with myself on avoiding acting like that blasted vampire skank was a fraud. I stood, wobbling over to the bathroom. Oh, Arthur. You have made such a mess out of yourself. I stared at my reflection, the somber eyes stabbing at my mind. How did I let myself get to this? Was Alfred worth all of this misery? Did the tosser even give a damn? I turned the faucet, and awaited for the water to turn warm. I let my hands linger under the liquid, before bringing it up to my face, and scrubbing the dried tears off. It was a start.

I slipped my arms out of my sleeves, pulling the sweater off. I stood shirtless and in my boxers in the bathroom, staring at my reflection. I needed a decent cleaning up. I was desperate for company. Perhaps if I went out and spoke to one of my citizens, it would help brighten up my mood. Yes, that was all I needed. I needed a pep talk.

Turning towards the shower, I turned it on, stepping into the warm water, disregarding of my undergarment as soon as I entered. I let the warm water embrace my body. It felt refreshing. Showering was something which I truly needed. I scrubbed away where I felt it was necessary (go to Hell, you perverted gits, this is an innocent shower).

Stepping out into the cool air, I reached for a towel, and made my way towards my bedroom. The loneliness was slowly killing me. I just needed to speak to one person, then I could return home and slowly regain my sanity. I buttoned up a white dress shirt, pulling a green vest over it, slipping into a pair of grey khakis. The weather seemed permitting enough for me to sport such an outfit... so I did.

Walking out and stepping into the sunshine was definitely one of the more revealing moments of my life. The air, the blue skies, the children playing in the park.. it all seemed to surreal for the situation that was occurring. I locked the door to my home, stepped onto the sidewalk, positive I was being watched by someone, somewhere. The feeling of being watched was very displeasing, in addition to being completely uncomfortable. However, the day seemed extremely decent. Quite lovely, in fact.

I slipped my hands into my pocket, and began my walk down the park. I scanned to see who would be the first person I would converse with. I hoped to make small chat, and slowly warm myself up into a decent discussion which would keep my spirits up to make up for the past fourteen days spent in complete solitude.

My walk was interrupted by a ball rolling at my feet, stopping after making contact with my shoe. A small child must have lost it. I bent over, picking up the red object. A young child, no older than three came running in my direction, his arms wide.

"Sir, that's mine!" he said, his speech in obvious need of perfecting. I studied the young boy. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like my America. My America... no. No, he was not mine. I shook my head, and turned towards the young man.

"Here you are, my good sir. May I ask for your name?" I began, hoping to hear more than simply three words from another soul today.

"Connor! May I please have the ball back?" he asked, impatiently. I nodded, and handed the boy his toy back. He nodded, wearing the widest grin any young child could ever express. The young boy turned on his heel, and ran back to his mother, laughing. I smiled, and continued making my way around the park. I felt as if I could feel better, but no. I felt broken. I was able to speak to someone who wasn't out searching and keeping track of my activity, however.

I continued on my way, passing the telephone booth which started it all. I scorned at it, avoiding focusing on the object as much as I could. It's quite unbelievable how much one's life could change in a mere two weeks. I looked up to the sky, the blue reminding me of America's eyes. I shook my head, and continued walking. No. No more America. I was sick of thinking about that git all of my time, while he was probably fine and dandy, that prick.

I took a deep breath. Did he think of me nearly as much as I thought of him? There was no point in losing my energy over moronic questions such as these. He was fine, he always was. At least, that's what I told myself. I had no idea how his situation was being handled. The air seemed to turn grim, the more I thought about America. I didn't need that tosser. If Parliament believed I would be better off without him, I could simply sure as Hell try. Try to forget about America. Erase him from my mind.

It was a simple test, really.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

><p><strong>A shit load of things, that's what.<strong>

**Holy crap, Iggy. You're stupid.**

** Ahohoho. Pardon the rush of the chapter, I wanted to move on to the next couple of ones, where it gets more interesting.**

**Thank you and don't forget to review! **


End file.
